The Waiting Game
by You-drive-me-nuts-miller
Summary: Timing is everything, but nature sometimes has other plans.
1. Three Minutes

**I've been asked a few times to write a Ness 'baby' fic so I've decided to give it a whirl... Here ya go... (And if you like this kind of thing go check out '40 weeks' and 'The Test') **_*Thanks Ztofan once again!*_

* * *

Instructions

_When you're ready to use your pregnancy test, remove the one–piece test stick from its individual foil wrapper and take off the cap._

_Hold the tip pointing downwards in your sample for five seconds only._

_Keep the test pointing downwards or lay the test flat until the line has appeared in the window. You can read your result after three minutes._

* * *

Is it possible for time to move more slowly - especially when you really don't want it to? I've always thought that the proverb, 'a watched pot never boils' was ridiculous, but today, now - I'm not so sure.

Within seconds, I can feel my legs beginning to shake involuntarily; my knees clashing together in a shuddering, jerky rhythm - like when it's cold outside. I press them together. Now, my foot starts to tap, to take up the slack. My whole body is tense and anxious.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock._

The second hand on my watch appears to be taunting me, pausing between each movement. As I look down it hesitates around the 12 - _come on_. I silently will the small mechanical movement to work faster. Move. _I need to know._

I sit up taller and survey the room around me. The familiar yellow and blue tiles that line the walls feel like they are inching closer to me as I sit in the stall. The blue wooden shelf looms over me. Although I left the door open I feel claustrophobic so I get up and make sure the bathroom door is still locked. Yes.

Starting to pace the length of the bathroom, finally my mind starts to still a little and other thoughts begain coming through. What will I do... What will we do? Are we ready? Where would we live? How could we afford it-

_Shush_, I tell myself. Stop. These voices in my head have hounded me for days now, in one form or another. It started on Tuesday - oh, just a little late, no biggie. By Thursday, an anxious knot was forming in my stomach. And today, Saturday, I cracked. I was never this late.

_Two more minutes._

Cece would kill me if she knew I'd done this alone. We're best friends, right - supposed to share everything? But this, this thing... I needed to process it alone. So at eight am I'd slipped out of bed, leaving him sleeping silently, pausing to give him a soft kiss on the head. _If only he knew..._

The drugstore was quiet and I snatched a basket and began to fill it with random items - a candy bar, a romance novel, some Tylenol, a pack of bobby pins... Until I reached _that_ aisle.

Dumbstruck, I stared at row upon row of little white boxes. I became a little dizzy - which one? Digital? Triple pack? Brand name? Store's own? I stood, staring, rooted to the spot. A 31-year old woman should have a clue about these things...

In a panic, I reached forward and grabbed a triple pack of 'Clear Blue' - the box told me it came a 'conception indicator' so I figured it must be reliable.

The clerk rang up my goods as I nervously danced on the spot - like a teenager buying her first pack of condoms. I knew I shouldn't be embarrassed - everyone has sex, almost every woman will use a pregnancy test at least once but ... Still, I felt my cheeks tinge red when I handed over my Visa.

When I'd got home I'd waited, an agonizing wait, for my roommates to leave. For _him_ to leave. I couldn't say anything, no - not yet. Finally, by lunch, I was alone.

Now I stare at the small, white stick I left balanced on the edge of the sink. A flimsy piece of plastic which held such huge potential consequences. They say it's the small things that matter - I find that saying rather ironic in this moment.

The chill from earlier is still here and I feel my teeth chatter.

I'm not sure how I should feel. Scared? Excited? Sure, we'd talked about this possibility in abstract terms - maybe when we have kids, in the future you know, that sort of thing. But this was in the here, the now and I wasn't sure how I should react.

_One more minute._

I sink back against the tiles and try to clear my mind.

I want to be a mother. I really do. I want to carry a child, nourish them, care for them, love them.

And then it occurs to me - it would be _his_ baby too. Nick's. I smile suddenly at this thought. A little Nick Miller - maybe it would have his big, brown eyes and my curly dark hair. A vision of him holding a small, white bundle suddenly fills my mind and it feels, well, nice. I imagine him soothing them at night when they can't sleep, maybe trying to sing (badly). I think of him and I watching our child grow up - side by side. It's kind of exciting. Us, parents? Crazy. But crazy, crazy exciting.

_15 seconds._

I peel myself away from the wall and take those few steps back towards it. I eye it with suspicion. Any moment now.

_10 seconds._

Now I'm sure my watch is toying with me. Maybe I could just peek? No, be patient Jess.

_Five seconds._

Deep breaths. Breathe. Relax Jess! Come on - _really_, what are the chances. We're always careful, right?

_Time's up._

Closing my eyes, I reach out my hand and bring the test closer. I count to three and then I look.

I'm holding my breath. I blink a few times. I swallow; lick my lips.

My heart is pounding, blood rushes to my head; I hear a whooshing sound.

And I'm smiling. Then laughing. Tears stream down my face as I clutch that stupid plastic wand and sink to the cold floor of the bathroom.

_And then I realize - I'm happy._

All worries and doubts lift, like a veil has been removed and I can see clearly. I can admit what I scarcely was able to admit to myself before.

_I want this._

I'm pregnant. I'm actually going to be a mother.

I have to tell him.

**To be continued ...**


	2. I have something to tell you

It's quiet at Clyde's, thank God. I'm still tired from last night's shift. Back to backs are not normally my thing but I've been promising her a date night for weeks so it will be worth it.

I pick up a tray and move from behind the bar, collecting the scattered bottles and glasses that linger where they were abandoned - sad little testaments to midday drinking. It's almost 2pm and I'm two hours into my shift, but it feels like ten. I look up at the clock and calculate the minutes until Bob will arrive and I can leave.

It feels like I've barely seen her this past week. I guess that's to be expected when your schedules are often so often opposing to one another. Bar tending and teaching are polar opposites in many ways - kinda like me and Jess.

_Me and Jess. Jess and I. Us_. Still such new words and phrases that I roll around my tongue like a foreign language I'm struggling to learn. How long will it take until it becomes familiar and comfortable? I'm not sure. If I'm honest, I still can't believe this is happening, I'm waiting for her to wake up and tell me she made a mistake.

I can feel myself smiling just because I am thinking of her. She has that affect on me. Always has.

Heading back to the bar, I start tossing empty bottles into the recycling bin.

I miss her, actually. Yeah, I know... I shake my head: you dumb idiot Miller. You fell for her so hard, what if- I squash that thought immediately. I've spent so much time worrying and over thinking things that it's a real hard habit to break. But I'm trying.

I wonder what she doing now as I load the dishwasher. I really hope she's sleeping. The past few days I've been worried about her, she's been so quiet. But every time I ask she insists there is nothing wrong. Just tired. She does work hard. The amount of times I've came home to find her at the table with pen in hand, head down and fast asleep are becoming too numerous to recall. I really hope she's sleeping.

* * *

In a frenzy I've lost all ability to think straight. _My shoes? Where are they? My purse too _- I'm sure I left it by the door.

I freeze in the hallway and close my eyes. _Calm down_, I tell myself.

I'm filled with a kind of buzz - a mixture of fear and nerves and excitement all happening at once. I take a few deep breaths, letting my chest expand into my abdomen, concentrating on the motion. That feels a little better.

I find my shoes under my bed, where I had hastily kicked them when I returned from the drug store. My purse I find tossed on the couch, it's contents spilling out onto the floor. Hastily I scoop everything up and slide them back in.

I take a chance to sit. Why am I rushing? He'll be home later, I can tell him them. No rush...

But that's not what I want, what my heart wants. It needs to tell him now. I need to share this. I need to see his reaction...

It suddenly occurs to me that I had yet to think about what he will say. How will he react? I feel a tingling sensation as this thought washes over me.

This is _Nick Miller._ The man who up until recently was unable to share a single feeling. Doubt clouds my mind as I start to worry. I'd been so wrapped up in my own thoughts and feelings I hadn't stopped to consider his. Would he panic? Would he run away? Would all this progress we - he'd - made dissolve in the realisation that he was going to be a father?

And I have to admit I don't know. I really don't know. He loves me but is that enough for a man so scared of anything real and true? So damaged by his past?

I don't know. I feel a little flat after the high of minutes earlier. My resolve returns. I need to tell him now, find out, because if... If... No, I can't think like that. I pick up my purse and head for the door.

* * *

Three PM. I yawn loudly, feeling my eyes water a little. Three customers in two hours must be a record low for me. I kind of wish it was busy, to make the time pass. I reach under the bar and pick up my phone, flipping open the grey plastic device. Two messages from Schmidt. I decide to ignore these for now and pour myself a Coke.

The sugary liquid fizzes on my tongue as I take a long drink. I really need to be healthier; not drink so much of this stuff. But I finish the glass anyway. I'm reaching down to dishwasher when I catch a glimpse of brown curls and a blue sweater. My heart skips a beat. _Jess_?

She's smiling as she walks up to the bar, it's a strange smile that I haven't seen before. There's something unfamiliar in her eyes.

"Hey," I call as she reaches me. I cup her face in my hand and place a kiss on her soft, pink lips, "This is a nice surprise." She smiles coyly and doesn't say anything as she settles onto a nearby barstool and unstraps her purse from her shoulder.

"It's been a while since I kept you company at the bar," she replies softly. I'm hit with a wave of love. Yes, the L word. Love for her. Her being near me - it does something that I can't explain.

"Drink?" I ask. She pauses for a second and I see her mouth twist.

"Ginger ale please."

I raise my eyebrows a little at her request but obediently select a clean hi-ball and filled it.

"So how has your day been so far?" I ask her, keeping one eye on the barfly, six feet away, who is working on his fifth beer.

She shrugs a little in that coy way she often does, dipping her chin and looking at me through her thick, black lashes. Her mouth curves up at the edges. "Well, you know..."

I'm laughing at her a little. "What?" I ask. I think she's hiding something.

She bites her bottom lip and it becomes white and pallid until she let's go and the blood rushes back in a full flush. She's rubbing her hands together: her right hand strokes each finger of her left in turn before circling the face of her watch.

I swallow. Jess is never this quiet. I feel a trickle of worry, cool and prickly down my back.

"Jess, are you okay."

She brings her baby blues up to look at me dead on. I can see her breathing heavier, her chest is heaving a little, her blue sweater rising a tiny bit higher each time. She takes a sip of her drink.

"Yes. I mean, kinda, well-"

I freeze. Is this the moment I've been dreading? Is this why she has been so quiet...

"Is there something you need to tell me?" I ask quietly, resigned to what she will say next. _Times up Miller. It was good while it lasted._

"I do have something I need to tell you. That's why I'm here, I just-" she's takes in a sharp intake of breath and I see her eyes start to glisten with tears.

Dread begins to firm in my chest. I feel my heart sink. But all I want to do, right then, is comfort her.

I lift up the bar hatch and then I'm next to her. Her head sinks to my chest as she fingers the collar of my shirt and I draw my arms around her waist. She's shaking a little.

"Shhh, baby, what's wrong..."

A few seconds pass and we remain as we are. The bar is quiet, the only sounds are the replays of the weeks sports flickering on the wide screen TV's.

I feel her shift and look up at me.

"Nick."

I steel myself.

"I'm pregnant."

My stomach collapses, as if I've been punched, the wind knocked out of me. I draw back in shock - her eyes widen. Oh no, she must think-

And I don't have the words, I can't form them. So instead, I kiss her. I dig my hands in her hair, pull her face to mine and I pour out my feelings. I feel her go limp. But I don't stop. I never want to stop.


	3. The real deal

My heart is pounding; racing against my chest. Breathing is difficult - we've kissed a thousand times but it's never been like _this_. He is pouring himself into me.

I'm drowning. My knees feel weak; I finally pull away and place my hand on his shirt.

It's quiet for a moment as we both reflect.

Of all the ways Nick Miller could have reacted - of all the scenarios I'd ran through my head - this was something I could not have predicted.

Now he is smiling at me and I start to laugh. It's a deep, hearty, belly laugh that makes me shake. The relief sweeps over me and I feel dizzy.

"Oh God," I finally manage to say, "Oh my God."

He reaches out to grasp my shoulders before running one palm up my neck, I tilt my head so he is cupping my cheek before I turn and kiss his hand.

"You're pregnant."

I nod.

"I put a baby in you." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Well technically it's an embryo right now but... Yes Miller, you did."

He picks me up and spins me around. The few patrons turn to stare but I don't care.

"So you're happy?" I ask cautiously as he sets me down.

"Damn straight I am," a look of determination crosses his face before he quickly kisses me once more - I feel my stomach jump a little. "I mean you, me, _us_..." He smiles as his voice trails off.

I relax a little and lie back against the bar, "I was so worried; I thought, well, it's not planned and -"

"Planning is overrated," he murmured into my hair as he reached down to softly kiss my neck.

I wriggle and squirm against the soft, yet aching feel of his mouth on my skin. "You would say that."

"Hey, you're talking to the father of your child here-"

It hits me, then, he's right. Nick Miller is the father of my future child. I swallow hard. And I see the realization in his eyes as he understands what he has said. We gaze at one another. _This is real_.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

I tilt my head to one side, "Well I did a test-"

"Let's do another. Be certain."

"Uh- okay." I nod as I watch him grab his phone. He makes a call as I sit, dazed, on a nearby chair. What had happened in the last few hours? My mind is full of questions and worries and hopes.

"Okay, Bob is coming in early, five minutes."

"You know there's no big rush, Nick-"

He slips the phone back in his pocket and gives me a look that turns me into a puddle of emotion - all brown eyes and adoration. _Could those pregnancy hormones have started already?_

"My girl has just told me the most amazing news and I want to be there for her. What could be more important?"

I smile as I watch him tidy the bar. Damn he's a sweetheart. I feel the warm glow of love swell in my chest.

* * *

She's pacing the room, knotting her hands as we wait. I watch the sway of her stiff, blue skirt. I listen to the whispering of her hair as it moves across her shoulders. I feel... _flat_. The rush of adrenaline that had propelled me quickly home once Bob arrived is beginning to wane and the reality of the situation is starting to truly dawn.

Me. A father? Seriously?

My eyes glance over to her dresser and the little white plastic stick balanced on its surface.

I read the box. They are over 99.9% accurate. Plus she said she was a week late. So this is just a formality, but I still hold my breath as she looks at her watch and gives me a smile. I push myself up and we walk over together.

"You look," she tells me, folding her arms and turning around.

"Um, okay..." I whisper. I take another step and let out the breath I'm still holding in. "Two pink lines."

She doesn't move and I'm worried for a moment.

"Jess, two pink lines. That means..."

"I really am pregnant," she answered softly. Her shoulders shake a little as I come up behind her and envelope her small body with my arms.

"Hey," I soothe, worried that tears are going to fall from her pretty blue eyes, "What's wrong?"

She leans her head back against my chest, "I guess, I mean, it's more real now."

I walk over to the bed and pull her towards me so we are facing each other, her small hands held in mine. "Jess, I love you. I'm happy. Very, very surprised, but happy."

The apples of her cheeks rise into a small smile. "Are you really sure?"

"How could I not be happy?" I ask shaking my head, "The girl of my dreams, who I love more than anything, is having my child."

"But it's so soon, we haven't even talked or planned-" she sighed.

"I told ya," I began as I pulled her closer so she stood between my legs, "Planning is overrated." I give her a small kiss on the tip of her nose. I want her to smile, more than anything, right now.

"So you're not mad?"

I crinkle my brow at her words.

"You're not going to freak out and panic moonwalk away..." I see the worry in her eyes. She thinks I could do that. I sink a little further into the bed. I need her to know I'm not that guy anymore - at least I don't think I am.

"No, no, no..." She shifts until she is sitting on my lap. I enjoy the feeling of her soft, comfortable body pressed against mine. I close my eyes for a second, just enjoying this sensation. "I mean, yeah, we have a ton of stuff to work out. But please, never, ever think that I don't want this - you - the b-_baby_."

She moans softly against my chest and kisses my neck; I can feel that her lips are smiling and I tighten my grip on her waist.

"So," she lifts up her head and looks at me, "What now?"

"I have no idea," I admit. But then I look at her again I'm amazed. She's so beautiful. My heart clenches a little as I think about a miniature Jess, all big eyes and curls maybe calling me Papa one day. I feel a bond beginning to form - a yearning to meet someone who doesn't even exist yet and the understanding that from this moment on, we are a family of sorts. "Hey Jess, how about we keep this just between us, for a little while."

"But Cece, my mom..."

I understand and reach up to stroke the curve of her cheek. "Okay, maybe just for a few days. I want to enjoy having this secret with you. It feels special."

"And wait, you are _terrible_ at keeping secrets Nick. Like the worst person in the world. Ever. Of all time."

"Hey," I laugh, "I get the point. Maybe this time could be different? I want to at least try..."

"Okay," she agrees, "Let's make it our little secret, for now at least."

In reply, I begin to kiss her again - this is turning into my go to move when words fail me - show her how I feel with my lips. She collapses on top of me and in giddy passion we make out like teenagers hiding in their bedroom while mom and dad are downstairs.

I roll her over until I'm resting on my forearms, gazing down at her flowing face. "God you're beautiful."

"You have to say that," she replies, "I'm the mother of your future child."

Yes she is. Hell yes she is.

And all I can do is smile and embrace her again.

* * *

**The end**


End file.
